


Dining and Dancing with the Dead

by Nitrobot



Series: Candlelight [1]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Dancing, F/M, dinner date
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-23
Updated: 2015-05-23
Packaged: 2018-03-31 19:10:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3989428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nitrobot/pseuds/Nitrobot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brainstorm decides to spruce the lab up for an evening with Nautica, to celebrate their continued survival in a universe that consistently tries to kill them off.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dining and Dancing with the Dead

In the end, Nautica couldn't remember what she'd come to the laboratory for in the first place. It was probably to berate Brainstorm some more or swindle a piece of tech out of him, but whatever it was went right out the airlock when she saw the faint twinkle of scattered lights spilling out into the hallway. Brainstorm never had the lights on this late in the solar cycle- something about the ambiance disturbing his diurnal recharge cycle and negating his processing capacity (a notion that he probably stole from Perceptor's data banks). 

Cautiously stepping around the lab's entrance, she saw that the offending lights were from indicators on the wall panels strategically switched on to reflect the starry landscape outside. Most of them were filtered through yellow glass, but others threw their shine in a rainbow of colours. The lab was bathed in a prism's glow that highlighted the figure hovering over a cluttered desk.

"Brainstorm?"

The mech in question snapped around to face her with a hybrid of shock and frustration in his optics, holding his servos behind him and his wings up high to shield whatever new doomsday device he was making. "You ruined the surprise!" His pout was palpable even with his mouth hidden. "I built a little roller drone to go to your hab suite with an invitation and everything."

As usual, he was speaking with that infinite knowledge that he was loathe to share with anyone else. Nautica couldn't help but laugh. "What's all this about?" She gestured to his set-up of soft fantasy light while he turned back to shove aside circuit boards and metal casings. As he cursed over a bundle of wires that refused to untangle themselves and save him a few tedious klicks of work, Nautica noticed the makeshift table and its accompanying pallet seating. Two vials of energon in a test tube rack sat on top of it, one with a curly straw sprouting from it, both glowing weakly against their brighter competition. 

Brainstorm glanced over his shoulder just in time to catch her confusion. "A little... experiment in mood. I can turn them off if you don't like it-" 

Nautica rushed to stop him. "No, no, it's lovely. I like it, really." Aesthetics had become a non-existent art on the advent of the war, eclipsed by the burden of practicality and 'shoving as many guns as possible over every inch of your frame' (as Whirl helpfully described it). On Caminus her outcast kind had the luxury of balancing the two in their meaningful designs, and she'd seen nothing to resemble the planet's art in modern-day Cybertronian principles. Brainstorm's rainbow lattice actually inspired some homesickness, but it was easily outweighed by her sense of awe. 

The sound of frantic rummaging paused for a nanoklick at her answer. "Oh." Brainstorm sounded surprised for the second time that evening. Not like him at all. Nautica furrowed an eyeridge suspiciously while the mech fumbled with some sort of console he had at his side. "Well, then... you'll love this... if it'll fragging _work_ -"

The lab's main lighting suddenly cut out, submerging it into a darkness only broken by the indicator pinpricks. Brainstorm's cry of triumph and the low mutter of a radio bursting to life temporarily covered up the fact that the ever-present ambient hum of electricity that threaded through the rest of the ship wasn't there anymore. When she noticed its abrupt absence, Nautica quickly figured out what he just did.

"Did you just overload the entire ship's generator and re-route all the backup power to this room?"

"Only way to get the perfect light balance here. And it worked perfectly, as expected." Brainstorm was doing peculiar things with his servos as his digits snapped together and his peds shuffled. The radio went louder, singing some catchy, crackly instrumental all the way from Earth. "Come on, dance with me."

Every day he seemed to say something that left Nautica completely speechless, and now he finally fulfilled today's utter bewilderment quota. "What?"

"You've already ruined one surprise this evening, so you owe me." He reached one servo out to her while the other still snapped along to the music. She didn't have much choice in taking it, and even then she was curious to see what on Cybertron happened to the real Brainstorm while this cheery impostor pulled her in a circle. Before she could even register shock he dipped her down towards the floor while still loosely holding her servos, and then hefted her back up. The lights and lab disappeared in a blur of colour punctuated with teal and orange plating, she was quickly consumed by the rhythm of their motions. 

When the radio hissed into silence Nautica collapsed in one of the improvised chairs, breathless from laughter and exertion. Even if this Brainstorm was a Decepticon in disguise, he was fun as hell to dance with. Or maybe he'd just been getting melted plastic fumes in his vents again. 

He took the seat opposite her while wiping coolant off his armour. "That should have worked up your appetite, at least." That was when Nautica remembered the energon glasses set out before she even arrived, now set out right in front of her.

Then the confusion hit her again, grey clouds drawing over the blue of her giddiness. "And what's the occasion for all this?"

Brainstorm seemed to think of an answer, but just shrugged as he took the vials of energon from the rack. "Just because the universe is ending doesn't mean we can't enjoy ourselves in the mean time."

That was stuck-up scientist talk for being scared and needing to distract himself from fate and its penchant for rude arrivals. Nautica couldn't blame him for it- she was terrified of a war that she only heard ghost stories of. How must it have been for a bot on the frontline of it all?

She kept her shudder to herself while he popped the cork off the sealed vial. "Only the finest distilled dregs of energon, straight from the depths of the ship's storage."  
His sarcasm actually made the meal sound appetizing. "And how'd you manage to get in there?"

He handed her the fresh glass while swirling his own with the straw and sitting back, crossing a leg over his knee. The indicators didn't stretch their light over here, so all Nautica had to see by was the glow of their fuel. "I have my ways... that mostly involve blackmailing Whirl to do it for me."

Nautica was grateful she hadn't sipped yet, else she would have snorted the energon through her olfactories as she laughed. "Even at the end of the world, he still pulls through."  


Brainstorm paused his swirling for a moment, optics and wings cast downward. "He'll live. Maybe with a few others. Us included."

Nautica cocked an eyeridge curiously. "And what makes us so special?"

He set his legs back down on the floor, studying his glass before answering with a familiar fire in his optics. "Just one thing- we're too damn stubborn to die." He lifted the vial towards her and titled his helm. In the darkness she couldn't see his mouthplate shifting aside, but she did catch a flicker of lips forming foreboding words. "Bottoms up, my dear. To survival, and the wretched science of it all."

The energon was about to hit their mouths when a shriek ripped through the static laden air.

_"BRAINSTORM, TURN THE DAMN POWER BACK ON BEFORE I BOLT YOUR WINGS TO THE WALL!"_

"Oh, I forgot," Brainstorm tutted to himself behind the hasty haven of his mask. "His Royal Primeness likes midnight walks where he can actually see where he's going."


End file.
